


i want it now (i want it loud)

by devileye



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, but in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devileye/pseuds/devileye
Summary: "Do you wanna have sex?""Uh. Yeah."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonprism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonprism/gifts).



> well this is the most self-indulgent thing i have ever written.  
> it's literally just the sex. no foreplay or anything. it's just sex. and it's unedited. yeah.  
> the dialogue is dry as fuck and there is literally no plot. i just wrote it so johnny's dick could be in ten. that's all.  
> there is very brief/mild breathplay(?) stuff. it's just pressure on the throat but i wanted to warn just in case!  
> also for the underage stuff, it's so vaguely implied that you'd have to do math to see it.  
> anyway i love johnten and i can't believe johnny is debuting and i'm losing my mind.  
> this fic and any other fic i ever write ever will always and forever be for my best friend [moonprism](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moonprism). i love u so much.

The first few moments that follow Ten’s ass meeting Johnny’s pelvis are filled with gasping, a deep groan, nails biting into warm skin.

 

It’s quiet after that, like the air suddenly freezes in Johnny’s bedroom and in their lungs. Ten’s breath suddenly whooshes out of him, like he’s been punched, and his knees press into the sides of Johnny’s. If not for Johnny’s legs, which hold his wide open, Ten would’ve teetered forward from his position on Johnny’s lap. His thighs tremble just enough to feel it, just enough to let Johnny know that this is what he’s needed.

 

He takes the time to get used to Johnny inside of him, pressed snug against his prostate. It isn’t uncomfortable anymore, just a bit overwhelming with the stretch and stimulation. Each tiny shift sends pleasant static to Ten’s brain and breathing becomes a chore. He doesn’t want to have to think about anything but Johnny, who’s gripping his hips for dear life as his breath comes in hot puffs against Ten’s neck. Ten can’t see him, but he can guess Johnny’s expression. He imagines the way Johnny’s brows pull together in concentration, betraying the effort it took to just keep still. He can’t help but smile, tilting his head back against Johnny’s shoulder with a long exhale that helps him relax around the cock buried in his ass.

 

“Comfortable?” Johnny asks. His voice is just barely strained, followed by a thick swallow. Ten would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel Johnny grinding up against him, hands on the bed now for leverage. His breath catches in his throat, fists pressed to his inner thighs like it’ll suppress the need that threatens to burst from him.

 

Instead, a moan escapes from between his spit-slick lips, soft and sweet in the dark with his back pressed flush against Johnny’s chest. It’s warm, _safe_ even, and he reaches blindly for Johnny’s hands. Their fingers lock together just as Ten pushes his hips back impossibly further, clenching hard around Johnny and pulling a strangled sound from his throat.

 

“Like that?” The lilt of his voice is teasing, so Johnny keeps quiet by pressing his mouth to Ten’s neck. Ten’s fine with that, relaxing against Johnny again before guiding his hands down, down, down. Johnny’s fingers wrap around Ten without missing a beat, grip noncommittal and loose. He doesn’t do anything with it either, not even when Ten’s legs tighten against his and an almost pitiful whine leaves him.

 

“What?” Johnny whispers, feigning innocence where there was none at all. “Do you want my hand or my dick?”

 

Ten groans, annoyance with no heat, and lightly bumps his head against Johnny’s neck. “Don’t even start,” he mumbles as the corners of his lips start to tug upwards, rolling his hips as best as he can in the position they’re in to shut Johnny up. It probably looks sexy but definitely isn’t ideal for what he wants.

 

Johnny has the audacity to laugh before the sound dissolves into a low moan, hand leaving Ten’s cock to travel upwards again. His palm slides over the clenching muscles of Ten’s stomach, brushes pointedly over his chest, and comes to settle at the base of his throat. His fingers fan out against Ten’s collarbone, applying a hint of pressure when Ten tightens around his cock again with a shaky exhale.

 

“Please,” Ten breathes, _begs_. His hips move with a little more fervor, spurred on by the added sensations of a hand at his throat. “Come on.”

 

It could’ve come out demanding if Ten didn’t sound so needy, like he was aching somewhere and only Johnny could fix it. Johnny’s fingers shift suddenly, wrapping around Ten’s neck properly to tighten further. It still isn’t anything much, just enough for a heaviness to settle at the back of Ten’s head, and it’s gone before he can feel it for long. His cock is straining for some form of relief at this point, slick with precome and spit from what feels like hours ago.

 

He’s lifted from Johnny’s lap after that, shoved up onto the bed where he settles on all fours and tries hard not to think about the sudden emptiness where Johnny had been. A shiver runs through his body at the loss of warmth, and he sinks down onto his forearms to push his backside farther up into the air. The whine he lets out is just for show, a _hurry up_ in the only language Johnny can understand right now after Ten’s turned his brain to mush.

 

Thankfully, there’s only a moment’s pause before Johnny’s hands are on him again, running along the curve of Ten’s back before grabbing at handfuls of his ass. They moan in unison, lower and just shy of feral from Johnny while higher and contented from Ten. Ten leans onto his chest and shoulders now, taking two of his own fingers into his mouth just to have something to muffle himself with.

 

Johnny takes hold of his cock, stroking it quickly against Ten’s ass before pressing back into him in one slow yet fluid motion. Ten presses back into it, whimpering around his fingers as Johnny brushes back up against his prostate and sends fresh jolts of pleasure through his body. There are hands at his hips again, grip bordering bruising, and they drag his hips back to meet Johnny’s when he starts to thrust into him.

 

With Johnny fucking into him this hard, Ten can do nothing but get lost in the feeling, pushing back against Johnny when he can but mostly just clinging to the sheets with his free hand. It’s always like this—fast and rough, like they don’t have time—and Ten can’t begin to say how much he needs this. He craves Johnny’s hands on him, in him, around him. And Johnny craves him too, for the familiarity and comfort that comes with sleeping with someone whose body he knows like his own. They’ve been doing this far too long not to miss each other; maybe Ten pictures Johnny’s face in his head when he’s fucking someone else, but it’s just a side effect of good dick. 

 

(At least, that’s what he said to his roommate, Yuta, after he brought Johnny home for the third time that week.)

 

A particularly forceful thrust sends a jolt straight down to Ten’s dick. He’s reminded that it’s there, bobbing between his legs and aching. Removing his fingers from his mouth, he reaches down to wrap slick fingers around himself. The initial touch is almost too much, knees sliding further apart as his hips buck. His toes curl and an unabashed moan escapes him and Johnny doesn’t slow down.

 

Ten doesn’t move his hand either. It’ll tip him right over the edge, but he wants to draw this out. He wants to feel Johnny’s hips stutter against him like they always do when he’s about to come, wants to get so desperate for it that he shakes. Johnny seems to understand this somehow, or maybe Ten’s just projecting. Either way, Johnny reaches down to take Ten’s wrists in his hands, pulling his arms back so he’s forced to arch his back further and rest on his chest. The whimper he lets out makes Johnny’s movements slow, fingers loosening their grip on Ten’s wrists. Ten takes the brief lull to swallow hard and press his hips back, taking the entirety of Johnny’s cock into him to feel every inch inside of him. 

“Good?” He can hear the grin in Johnny’s voice, like he isn’t slowly starting to fuck himself back onto his dick, so he doesn’t dignify the question with a proper response. Instead, he groans softly as he moves back and forth, tugging his wrists free to twist the sheets into his hands. Johnny grabs at his ass again, breathing labored and shaky, and Ten knows he’s close. 

It isn’t long before Johnny can’t handle the way Ten’s hips roll back against him anymore, and part of Ten was waiting for Johnny to snap like this. His thrusts are erratic now, like he’s clawing his way to release. The irregular jabs to his prostate make Ten keen, eyes clenched tightly closed as pleasure ripples through him. He can feel everything coiling tight, right on the brink of snapping. “ _ More, _ ” he begs, even though he knows Johnny can’t do much this far in. “Harder,  _ please. _ ”

 

Johnny pulls himself together enough for a few last hard thrusts, holding on to Ten’s hips again. One of his hands slides down, reaching between Ten’s legs to wrap around his cock and give it a few harsh tugs. It’s enough, Johnny knows, so he shoves his entire length into Ten and lets go.

When Ten comes, it’s usually quiet unless he wants to put on a show. This time, it’s muffled against the mattress, hands pulling so hard on the sheets that his knuckles turn white. His moans are broken until he can breathe properly again, body sagging like everything’s left him. 

Johnny waits, grinding against Ten’s ass, until Ten reaches back for his hand. Their fingers fit together and Ten squeezes, encouraging. He lifts his hips again, avoiding the damp spot underneath him and pushing back onto Johnny. It’s enough for Johnny to get back into a rapid rhythm again, one that makes Ten wince from the overwhelming sensation of a cock pressing into his prostate. 

“Just a little more,” Johnny grits out between his teeth, hand tightening around Ten’s as his hips start to stutter. Ten wills himself to relax again as Johnny groans, loud, and spills into him, buried as deep as he could go. 

A sigh leaves him when Johnny finally pulls out, dropping heavily beside him on the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. Ten gives himself a minute to just lay there, listening to Johnny’s ragged breathing and clenching around nothing. He’s already missing the feeling of Johnny inside of him.

Ten heaves a sigh as the cool air settles around him, scooting close to his only source of warmth and dropping his head onto Johnny’s outstretched arm. Johnny lets his head loll, bumping against Ten’s but staying put as his chest moves with each deep breath. “Ow,” Ten says, but he doesn’t move either. He stares blankly at Johnny’s collarbone instead, drowsiness sweeping over him like a blanket.

“We should do that again,” Johnny says, voice uncharacteristically deep and rough with exertion. 

Ten rolls his eyes, earning a quick swipe at his side that’s almost ticklish. “We’ve been doing this for three years.”

“Still,” Johnny insists, pressing his forehead against Ten until he tilts his head back. Their lips press together briefly, lethargic with the loss of euphoria. They pull away from each other only to kiss again, and again, and again. 

“At least buy me dinner next time,” Ten says when they finally break away, throwing a leg over Johnny to keep him close. “And turn the heat on higher.”

Johnny laughs, fingers pushing into Ten’s hair as he kisses him again. 

 

“Deal.”


End file.
